A FICTITIOUS HOPE.......

a poem by Eisha Gohil, India

Tear me, crumble me or throw me in the dustbin…I will still be that one single page of your book,Which desired to communicate with you,In your joys and sorrows….There was a time, when you played on me with different colorsYou made certain lines,You drew some circlesAnd now few dots remain,Yes, the dots evident of your indifference Did your thinking stop?Or the time stoppedOr may be the world ceased to exist…No, we have stopped somewhereSomewhere near the horizonAt some place, which is not in sync with the timeHey….lets start something once againSomething from those numerous dots….Lets join them once againOn my heartA heart waiting for a new start in that same glorious book…And blending your emotions with the colors of natureDance on me like waves on ocean……